


An understanding

by lover_of_blue_roses



Series: Jimercury Week 2020&21 [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), ;), Dom!Jim, Jim Is Very Confused, Kidnapping, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mafia AU, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sub!Freddie, but how will freddie possible apologize, but its all a big misunderstanding, but they are both bottoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: Jim was just minding his own business, going about his day, when he's kidnapped by the mob and threatened because? Well he's not sure but thankful this handsome stranger will clarify and... well more 😏
Relationships: Jim Hutton/Freddie Mercury
Series: Jimercury Week 2020&21 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622485
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32
Collections: Jimercury Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

Jim uhhh, well Jim had fucked up, apparently somehow. He'd thought the neighbourhood had changed enough that such blatant homophobia had become unacceptable, much like how misogyny and racism had become unacceptable but apparently not or he wouldn't have been muscled into a car, threatened and brought to wherever the fuck this was.

The 'good' news was that this place was some kind of swanky office building so he felt it was less likely that he was going to be shot then say a warehouse or a cornfield on the outskirts of town. The bad news was that this building was in the still developing waterfront and the building was still empty inside, no witnesses, no carpet that can be stained arterial blood spray.

Jim had been 'invited' to sit down while the blond continued his bordering fanatical rant and casual yet terrifying threats. Jim was sure to remain traumatized by 'having his stomach cavity gutted for cats to feast on his intestines as he slowly died from blood loss.' The only thing possible worse than the raging blond was his completely impassive colleague. They had driven the car without a word and now stood there unflinching, arms crossed as the other continued to rave.

It got to such a point that Jim was starting to move past scared and into resigned. If they could get past the threats to his well being so he could just be asked whatever it was they wanted from him which he would probably readily give. Not necessarily because the threats had worn him down but because he'd always been willing to do it. The police were a bunch of insufferable shits that only cared about money and power, those that had that could get away with murder. While those without, especially those most vulnerable, the kind of people that lived in his kind of neighborhood, most notably black folks,were targeted without having committed any crime. The mafia was a lot of things but it defend and protected its people.

His 'salvation,' which he doubted how true that might be, came in the form of the sound of shoes stepping assuredly through the hollowed building, the tapping sound echoing ominously. The blond straighten to attention and fell in line with his still unmoved colleague. The person that rounded the corner was not what he was expecting. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, a hulking person made of muscles perhaps or defaced by scars, but it was no such person.

Flanked by a lanky man with an nearing afro amount of curls, the man is sharply dressed from head to toe in brogue shoes, a three piece suit with an dark oxblood tie, a wide brim hat that is unspeakably flattering to his cheekbones. The only thing 'out of place' is the bright splash of color that is his daffodil yellow pocket square. Even with is curls slicked back Jim would recognize that striking face anywhere, it's the same man that he asked out. He had no idea that he was part of the mafia.

Freddie, as Jim believes is his name, stops directly a few feet in front of Jim's chair, cutting a look to brunet. "Deaky, I presumed you had no troubles coming here."

"None whatsoever," and Jim feels like he can read between the lies of what is being asked; 'were you followed' 'does anyone know your here.'

"And you searched him?"

"Clean," answers the blond. Jim doesn't know if that's in reference to a weapon or a wire but either way it is true.

"Good, then leave us. Deaky wait by the lift." The other two shuffle out but not before the curl haired one gets a pinched look on his face, a possible ally in some way? Someone that at least still flinches at the violence that must be complace in the mafia. But as the sound of their footsteps grow quieter and Jim stays unmoving, barely even breathing, he feels that little hope slipping away.

Freddie then turns his attention to Jim who can't help but to gulp under the intense stare. "Now, Jim was it?" At his nod he continues, "I want to know what you meant."

"What I meant?"

"When you approached me on Friday?"

"I-I'm sorry I meant no offense, you looked-" Jim does his best not to do a once over of the man. Last Friday he had been far more casual, stripped down to a tank from which his well toned body and coarse body hair could be seen, laughing and drinking at the corner pub. "And I didn't mean nothing by it, just if you were interested I didn't know, I thought with how yall cracked down on dem calling out checkerboard chicks-"

Jim's rambling is thankfully cut off by the man raising a hand to stop him, his expression implacable. "You," Freddie stops himself, taking in a deep breath and visibly collecting himself, "Whatever the Pistols have offered you, or threatened you with, you should know our range is far more reaching."

Jim blinked confusedly as his eyes looked off into the middle distances. The Pistols? They were some upstart gang from the westside that had done nothing but make enemies, of the other families, of the cops, of everyone really. "I- Nothing," Jim states honestly but now it just sounds like he's a willing follower of their chaotic anarchist ways. "I wasn't approached- I wasn't doing it for anyone else. I just- I just saw you and thought you..." Jim shrugs, careful to only just barely implied what had so angered these Queen men.

"You thought I was cute?" Freddie said, positively peaking up. If he was a puppy, his tail would be wagging.

"Well um, handsome is the word that I would really use," Handsome and sexy, "But you certainly are cute too," Jim tacks on cringing, man he is really digging himself in deeper with every dumb thing that comes out of his mouth.

Freddie cups his own face, prancing about, "You think I'm handsome. You?" The mafiosi questions as though there could be some other source. It certainly wasn't the Holy Spirit. "But you're so-" Freddie gestures to Jim in his worn day clothes, they're probably dirty from having worked in them all day and they remain as ever fretted and patched. "Beautiful," Freddie finishes honestly as Jim can do nothing but let the blush gloom on his face.

"Well then, um," Jim clears his throat awkwardly, "If you think I'm handsome and I think you're handsome, then what seems to be the problem exactly? I swear I meant no insult by it."

Freddie is primed and ready to wave that away but he pauses, narrowing his eyes and examining him carefully, "And you swear no one put you up to this."

Jim shook his head before confessing, "I didn't even know you were with Queen. Just saw you at Sullivan's and thought you looked right fit."

Freddie taps his chin, looking off in thought, "Saw me at Sullivan's? What past nine?"

"Um," Jim still doesn't know where any of this is going, "I can't quite remember right. I know it was definitely past seven because that's when I went out and it was not till later I saw you. You were with some fella, cropped brown hair, bushy mustache and funny looking shirt." It's clear that Freddie recognizes him by this description as his whole body seems to freeze over as his eyes dart to Jim before darting away. Fuck, shit, fuck shit. That was clearly the wrong thing to say and here Jim thought he'd be able to leave physically unscratched.

"Okay so here's what I'm thinking," Freddie says finally dragging a chair to be in front of Jim and sitting down. "We're going to forget we ever met Friday, you don't know where I was, who I was was with, nothing. And then you're going to forgive me for whatever colorful thing Roger said. We're going to pretend that didn't really happen either. Like strangers just meeting for the first time all over again."

Jim nods hesitantly. It sounds almost too good to be true. Freddie is seemingly full of energy as he bounds up from the chair and paces to a nearby filing cabinet. But rather than files as one might assume, Freddie pulls out a bottle of cognac, nice cognac. He brings the bottle and two glasses over before taking another deep breath to compose himself and settling down like a king upon his throne. He pours first one glass before coyly looking up at Jim. "Can I buy you drink, strranger?" He purrs seductively.

Jim blinks confused, getting whiplash from all the twists and turns the day has had in store for him. "Sure," he says blankly as the glass is placed into his hand. Freddie pours himself his own glass, but interestly enoughly Jim notices it's not a particularly generous glass. As though he wasn't interested in getting sloshed, just wetting his throat, possibly unwinding before whatever was to come next.

"So, handsome," Freddie said coquettishly and Jim wondered what kind of flirtation would be appropriate in this situation, "How big is your cock exactly?" It took all of his self control to not just spit his mouthful of cognac all over the place.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim wasn't even kind of sure how to begin answering that, "I-well, not small." Jim started, he blinked marveling at what had become of his life in a single day. "But it usually doesn't matter." Freddie very politely rolls his eyes so Jim clarifies, "Because as the receiver-"

"Ahhh," Freddie said in understanding. He looked up and down Jim's heavy set body, "I could- I'm sure I could-"

Now it was Jim's turn to interrupt, "But I'm sure we could work something out, it's not set in stone and," Jim could feel the blush returning to his cheeks as the liquor still flavored his mouth and he looked into Freddie's soft large brown eyes, "I'm sure whatever we end up doing together will be wonderful."

Freddie sucked on his upper lip clearly flattered as he snaked his hand not holding the drink across Jim's shoulders, caressing him over his jacket, "I could blow you if you like." 

Ah what a subtle man he was continuing to be. Jim shrugged, hard to argue with that kind of a proposal. "Sure," he flicked his eyes over the barren and gutted looking room, "Here though?" 

"We can go back to mine," Freddie offered with a casual shrug. "I also have a nice car."

What are we teenagers? "Well if you're offering a bed, that would be nice." Freddie returns the bottle of cognac to the filing cabinet while Jim collects their now empty glasses. With a hand around his waist, Freddie guides them back to the elevator where Deaky is still patiently waiting. His expression thaws the slightest amount at Freddie's body language, looking almost approvingly at Jim. He takes the glasses from Jim's hands as they head to the ground floor where the extremely curly haired one is waiting on the hood of a very nice car reading what appears to be a trashy paperback. He coughs and stands to attention awkwardly when he notices them.

Freddie just waves at him 'at ease' and goes for the backseat door, "Don't fuss Bri, me and Jim are just going back to my place... To get to know each other better," he tacks on suggestively. 

Brian blinks once, clearly not surprised with Freddie's behavior even if it is a large departure from the previous stance on Mr. Hutton. "Best not to take him home on the first night, the Lengiston Hotel is only a few blocks away."

"Ta, will do," Freddie agrees blowing Bri a kiss before they settle into the car, Jim follows unarguing. Freddie directs the driver so and they quickly arrive there, Jim sitting still in shocked silence at the turn this day has taken. At the hotel the people clearly know him, whoever Freddie is, he's clearly a man of power, and they give him a key to a suite without Freddie even needing to ask. 

They take the lift it the top floor and Jim doesn't think he's ever been somewhere so nice, not just the hotel but even this fucking lift. He's concerned about goddamn tracking mud in, this whole place is polished to a shine to say nothing of the handcrafted panels that make up the wall. Freddie generously tips the lift attendant so that no one might disturb them. Jim doesn't think he understands until he realises that the whole floor is their suite. It's huge, rooms upon rooms, a full kitchen and even a fountain in the entrance. 

Jim is in awe of all of it but Freddie just guides him to the kind of room he is familiar with, even if the wallpaper seems hand pressed and the large dominating bed looks big enough to sleep six. "Now, now, whatever shall we do?" Freddie asks as he allows himself to freely touch Jim, skimming his hands over his pecks, down his gut and around to cup his ass. 

"Well I wouldn't mind pitching but if you rather we didn't there was other things we could do," Jim replies with the tact of a charging lorry. Freddie looks at him speechless for a minute before tipping his head back and laughing, loudly. Jim sputters, "You're- You started it. You asked me how big my cock was."

"So I did," Freddie confirms with a twinkle in his eye as he begins to undo his shirt cuffs. "I just was expecting something a little more sexy than just a statement of position."

Jim defends himself, "I- Yes you're right, it's not very sexy but I thought it best to see what you are most comfortable with first."

The mirth is now gone from Freddie's face and he looks solemnly up at Jim, as he continues undressing, working to undo his tie. "That was very considerate of you. You've now expressed a capacity to top, I've now expressed a similar willingness, but as it is neither of our preferences, I'm sure we'll find some other way to enjoy ourselves for at least one night. Don't worry darling, I'm not hardly that fragile."

Jim half shakes his head, partly shrugging as he too begins to shed his clothing, starting with his shoes and socks. "I- Even so, regardless of how tough you are, you still deserve consideration," he replies candidly as he looks at his feet. 

"I-" Freddie sounds touched but he clears his throat, "Now, now, that would ruin my tough guy image."

Jim playfully bats his eyes at the handsome, half-nude man, "But don't you remember, I haven't met you, haven't seen you before, stranger."

Freddie smiles, sucking in his upper lip, "Good point then, stranger, let's see if we can't get to know each other better." His hands return to stripping but this time it's Jim's clothes he attacks until they are both left in only their trousers. He then slows down to linger and caress Jim's firm muscular body, "You strike me as a working man," he poses as he trails a hand to cup a large bicep.

Jim mirrors the exploration on Freddie's body, fingering the soft dip between rib and stomach, "Well more than you I imagine." 

Freddie huffs, "That's not hard."

Jim boldly trails his hand lower still to cup Freddie's crotch, "No, not yet but it has potential." Freddie chuckles again and they simultaneously lean in for a kiss. It quickly grows hot and heavy as they press their bare chests together. Jim spreads his legs and Freddie slots over a thigh, grinding his growing erection onto it as their hands continue to grope. Jim breaks away for the kiss, not just to breath but also to gasp out, "And here I thought we had traveled all this way for a bed."

Freddie smirks wickedly, "Ah yes, *you* wanted a bed, please allow me," And he pushes Jim backwards into stumbling, half-tripping into being seated at the edge of the bed. Before Jim can even open his mouth Freddie is getting on his knees before him, his hands running up to Jim's belt buckle, easily opening it and sliding the belt out tantalizingly as he stares up at Jim, licking his lips.

The earlier fear from Roger's threats is now but a distant memory and he can feel his confidence growing, the same confidence that had lead him as to be so bold as to ask out a stranger in a pub. "Ah-ah-ah," Jim tsks. "First, I want you naked. Take off your trousers," the Irishman commands as he rubs a foot over Freddie's bulge. 

Freddie moans as he makes quick work of his fly, finally freeing his cock from it's confine yet as much as he'd like to shuck it all off, first- shoes. Only then can he shove trousers and pants off. He gets them halfway down his legs before he has to shift from his knees to his bum to get them off all the way. He is now completely nude save for his socks and their suspenders, as he settles back down, kneeling primly with his hands in his lap and his large mouth partly open, lips licked wet and the tip of a pink tongue sticking out. Yeah somehow they're going to figure out something pleasurable to do even without penetration. 

Jim has half lowered his trousers and worked his cock out of his boxer's slit, he sits at the very edge of the bed with his legs apart. Freddie looks up at him with those large doe like eyes and once he must see all the confirmation he needs, he leans forward for his prize. 

"ARgh-mmm," Jim can't help the groan that is ripped out of him. Turns out Freddie's large, wide mouth is good for more than toothy smiles, engulfing him quickly and easily to the root, humming all the while despite the Irishman's notable girth. "Fuck, fuck," Jim whines as he tugs harshly at Freddie's hair. Just because they had decided to be blunt and straightforward with their words didn't mean they had to be like that in the sack too. 

Freddie does eventually let himself be pulled off. He stares up with a devilish smirk as he flicks his tongue out to give little kittenish licks to the length. "What's the matter dearie? Was that too much?" The little shit knows exactly what he's doing.

"I can take it," Jim squashes the thought in his best authoritarian voice. "But then it would be over too soon, and what would be the fun in that? Or," Jim tacts on as he again works his foot between Freddie's legs, providing little more than crude friction. Freddie pushes up against the pressure, moaning and panting in his turn hotly against Jim's dick that is still right against his face, "Could it be that you just want some attention you spoiled little thing?" 

"I-Please," Freddie breathe out throatily as he runs his tongue sensually up Jim's length again. Well that certainly doesn't clear up anything, except that Freddie seemingly can't get enough. 

"You greedy little darling," Jim says with nothing but affection as he hoists the man onto the bed with him. Jim wriggles them about until he is free of his last shred of clothing, the bedspread has been turned down, lube withdrawn from the bedside table (having some is always better than not) and Freddie is pinned underneath him. "Now, I almost have you where I want you."

"Almost?" Freddie says again with that devilish smirk of his as he makes as though to slide down to where Jim's dick is hanging hard and heavy.

"Ah-ah-ah," Jim admonishes. He looks down at Freddie's questioning face and revels for a moment in the fact that this powerful man is so willing to trust in him. "Turn yourself this way," he clarifies a hand guidingly on Freddie's hip. 

Freddie face lights up as he understands. He slides so they are head and tail, they are just of a perfect height with one another for their cocks and mouths to line up when 69ing. Once in position, Jim takes his time to slowly work on Freddie's cock. It remains just as hard and as responsive under his touch. Jim takes care and turns out to be rather immensely talented at such work. 

Being on the bottom like that Freddie has much less control than Jim. So rather than crank his neck uncomfortably, Freddie opens his mouth up wide and carefully slides his tongue along the surface as Jim moves his hips. Jim sets a pace that is maddeningly slow and shallow, Freddie knows he could do much better than this. And so while Jim is practically teasing himself, he is showing no such sign of mercy on Freddie. As the one on top, he sets the pace however he likes and - well it's certainly enjoyable to say the least. Fred does his best to not find it exceedingly distracting as he tries to maintain his work on Jim's cock. 

Freddie can't help but to jolt and accidentally scrape his teeth against the tip when he feels it. Jim, who's apparently indeed perfectly capable of being as much of a little shit as Freddie, has been sneaky. He's lubed up his fingers and is trailing them wetly over Freddie's rim, poking at the hole teasingly. Freddie sputters out, freeing his mouth with a loud pop, as he gasps desperately. 

"Is something the matter?" Jim teases as he slides his finger in.

Freddie opens his mouth but before vocalizing a single syllable Jim locates Freddie's prostate with a sharp jab. Freddie moans loudly into the vast room. "Fuck, yeah, mmm, more please," Freddie encourages as he slurps messily at Jim's dick. "God-hrgmmm, fuck you want some too?" Freddie asks as he trails his dry fingertip up Jim's taint.

"The more the merrier," Jim remarks as he toss the lube down the bed and for the sake of irony slides in a second finger.

But Freddie's whole attention is focused on Jim's gorgeous body, especially the parts he is getting up close and personal with, and so does not notice the lube at all. Yet that isn't going to stop him. He has a mouth and it can do more than suck dick. He grabs hold of Jim's hips with one hand and the Irishman's legs part obligingly. His tongue finds its way to the winking pucker which he lathers with large broad strokes. Jim cries out, his whole body shaking in Freddie's hold. Pleased to have found such success, Freddie continues with far more probing, poking gestures.

So in retaliation Jim doubles down on his efforts of sucking down the whole of Freddie's cock as he adds a third finger, not only stretching them apart but pumping them in and out, being sure to thrust against his prostate with every pass. Freddie strokes Jim off at the same rate that his tongue pulls in, getting Jim nice and loose before adding a finger. They work at each other frantically, the room filling with the sounds of sex even as both of their mouths are muffled by their respective efforts.

It doesn't take long for them to come. First Freddie, who hasn't had sex, let alone sex this good in what feels like ages. His mouth freezes as he does his best not to bite down with the tension that explodes through him. He drops his head back down onto the mattress and lets the orgasm rip through him, Jim dutifully sucking it all down. His whole body feels like it's melting as he does his best to catch his breath back. 

Jim crawls over top of him so they are once again face-to-face and by then Freddie has come back down to earth enough to wrap his hand back around Jim's throbbing dick and give it the tight, unrelenting strokes it needs. Jim doesn't need much, not when he can stare down at a satisfied, clearly well fucked Freddie. 

They lie there basking in the afterglow for a long time, until their naked bodies grow cold. Only then does Jim finally manage to get up and find the bathroom. It might well be bigger than his apartment and the tub looks more like a miniature pool, but he doesn't focus on that, getting two soft towels and dampening them with warm water to wipe himself clean. He then brings another one back for Freddie, who has not moved. He is still sprawled unmoving in the center of bed but startles when Jim's weight shifts the bed about, "You came back?"

"Of course," Jim just huffs through his nose as he cleans the silly man before answering teasingly, "How else am I going to get a second round?" Freddie just smiles blindingly wide as he stretches out his arms to wrap Jim up in an embrace.


End file.
